


In the Rift

by miracle_everett



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment, newLEGACYinc
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miracle_everett/pseuds/miracle_everett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny gets trapped in the erotic world of wrestling with only one way to escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Rift

**Author's Note:**

> Love nL

Johnny blinked. He had been streaming SvR for the better part of the day, and despite the adoration of his hundreds of fans, his eyelids were getting heavy and the rumbling in his stomach was telling him that it was time to wrap up for the day. He hit the start button on his controller.

“Alright guys,” he said into the mic, “that’s gonna do it for us. Please follow all our shit: the YouTubes, Tumblrs and Twitters. Thanks for watching everybody!”

The streaming software closed down, and suddenly he wasn’t sharing his virtual space with a couple hundred people, but with two: Duel, the nL representative from Australia, and Dino Winwood, comedian extraordinare.

“So, you’re still holding on to that nL fanfiction?” Duel asked. He had been wanting to hear the titillating tales that newLEGACY’s finest writing talent could put together, and Johnny could hear that itch in his voice. For a moment, he focused on it, opening his ears to tease out the faint trembles of desire in Duel’s…

“We haven’t gotten any,” Johnny said. “Everybody’s been asking, and I know Dino wants to read it real bad.”

“Real bad,” Dino said, his words echoing Johnny’s, but with a little bit of an audible wink in there.

“I don’t think anyone wants to take the time to write any,” Johnny continued. “I mean, fuck. Writing a nL fuck story?”

“Yeah, fuck that shit,” Dino said. “By the way, how’s the Oculus Rift?”

“Holy fuck, I thought you were gonna say that on stream and ruin the surprise.”

“No man, I can keep a secret.” Dino giggled. “So tell me, have you tried it yet?”

“I just don’t know what game I’d want to play with it. I don’t anything cool to happen and not have it be on the stream, you know?”

“Well,” Dino said, lowering his voice, “what if you played something that you couldn’t play on stream?”

“I’m not going to do anything illegal.”

“It’s not illegal man, just maybe not allowed.”

“That’s the definition of illegal.”

Duel piped in. “Don’t worry, Johnny. Just try it.”

“What, are you two in cahoots now? Trying to coerce me into giving up my sweet ass cheeks in prison?” Johnny laughed. “Alright, if Duel says it’s cool I’ll check it out.”

 

Sometime later, Johnny returned to his computer. His belly had ceased its rumbling, sated by a plentiful helping of fried chicken and mash. He rubbed his belly briefly, relishing that contented feeling of fullness.

“God, I’m so fucking fat,” he said.

The file that Dino sent was ambiguously labeled “ffesetup.exe” and against his common sense, his trust for his friends was so great that he ran it anyway. On the screen flashed a set of instructions and he followed these to the letter, first placing the Oculus Rift on his head, then arming himself with a controller pad before finally lying down on his bed.

The display flashed alight, and a kaleidoscope of colors filled Johnny’s vision. He turned his head to see multicolored beams of light shooting out all around him, and suddenly he wasn’t aware of his bed or bedroom, or even the controller in his hands just moments ago. He floated in the colorspace, unsettled at first, but slowly becoming accomodates to the body he inhabited in his virtual space. His couldn’t see his avatar’s face, but the rest of it looked familiar enough: same color skin and depressingly enough, same body type.

“This Oculus Rift thing sure is nuts,” he said aloud.

The colorspace pulsated slowly, flashing intensely for a second before returning to a less harsh hue. Chime sounds intoned in sync with the pulsing, and as Johnny listened to it, he noticed that both the chimes and pulses were speeding up. He expected them to stop at some point, but they kept speeding up, until the experience became inhuman and horrifying. It was enough to make him close his eyes and hold his ears shut, but the sound and light kept pouring through.

“Yo, shut that shit off!” Johnny said, and then at the sound of his voice, it was dark and silent.

 

A door opened, letting light into the room. The light was too much for him at first, and he shrunk away from it, but this was more of a flourescent white, stable and safe. While his eyes recovered he heard footsteps. He blinked to clear his vision, and through blurry eyes he saw a voluptuous figure strutting towards him. Was this a cutscene? When his vision cleared, he knew who it was. That business suit, that imperious stance and them tatas. It was Stephanie McMahon!

“Oh, shit,” he said.

This was at least a setting he was familiar with. He was a wrestler. The surrounding room took shape, and he could now see that he was in some arena storage room. Big black cases of equipment were stacked up on one side of the room along with the other accoutrements that would occupy this kind of setting.

“I can’t believe you’re late,” Stephanie said. Her scolding voice had a sweet tinge to it, and the experience of being talked down to wasn’t all that unpleasant. “Get to the locker room. You don’t want to make my husband mad.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Johnny said. “I wouldn’t want to make Triple H angry.”

“Triple H?” she said. “Do you even watch this show? Now get going, before I bring Chris into this.”

Johnny complied, albeit a bit confused. Maybe this was a custom roster and Dino had Stephanie paired up with Chris Benoit. It seemed like the kind of thing he would do, but for now Johnny just had to roll with it. Printouts taped to the walls in the arena led him through the vast backstage area. The sheer size of it was remarkable, and this was one thing that never could be fully grasped across the boundary of a television screen. After some time he found the superstars locker room. He stopped at the door, the sound of an intense scuffling freezing him in his tracks. Was there a fight going on? Would he have to break it up? Johnny steeled himself for a fight. He didn’t exactly know the controls, but he’d stumble his way through it like he did everything else in life.

The moment he opened the door, a loud groan emanated from the locker room within.

“UnghhOOOOOAAAAGGGHHHH.” Roman Reigns guttural moan set Johnny a step back, just in time to dodge a hot rope of jizz.

Now looking through the door he could see the mayhem in the locker room. The superstars of World Wrestling Entertainment were all naked and split off into pairs and sometimes groups of three to five, each a pile of male on male fuckflesh. Roman Reigns gyrated and rocked underneath a very willing Seth Rollins, the architect of pleasure. Rusev had Big E wrapped up in the biggest foreign relations disaster since the Cold War. Dean Ambrose sat alone in one corner, jerking off and mumbling to himself. The locker room moved as one, hot sweaty glistening muscular bodies each exploring the other, fingers probing holes that had never been probed before and liquids being tasted for the first time.

“You,” a voice said.

Johnny looked down and saw a naked Fandango on the ground, covered in man milk and slowly crawling towards him, arm outstretched. His foot was caught up in Jack Swagger’s patriot lock, their erections brushing against each others. They looked like one horrifying creation approaching him, and Johnny wasn’t sure if they were asking him for help or seeking to drag him into the inescapable pile of fucking, but he did the only thing he could do.

He ran.

 

This is totally fucked, Johnny thought to himself. It wasn’t a wrestling game, it was a wrestling fanfiction game. Characters were paired for god knows why, and they fucked just because and also for some reason Chris Jericho was married to Stephanie McMahon. He didn’t know how far he ran, but he had run as far as his breath would take him. He had opened Pandora’s Box. Now at every corner he found a different pairing engaging in some sort of copulation: Cody and Damien Sandow reciting Cyrano while taking turns rimming, the Usos wrapped up in a game of tummy sticks, Michael P.S. Hayes being hatefucked over a speaker by Mark Henry. At the sight of him, the superstars would halt their lewd activities and focus their attention on him, forcing the YouTuber to run.

Johnny leaned against a wall in some empty room of the arena, painting and trying to will away the burning sensation in his legs. This had gone from what he thought was a normal wrestling game into some sort of gay zombie survival horror. He had to escape.

“Johnny!” a voice called.

He began to run, but an arm hooked around his. Shit, he thought, this was it. Johnny turned to face his captor.

“Dino,” Johnny said, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Okay, so you know that game I wanted to show you?” Dino asked. “This one wasn’t it.”

“How did you even fucking find this?”

“Look, that’s not important. You want to get out of here, right?”

Johnny nodded.

“Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet,” Dino continued, “this is a porn game. The game doesn’t stop until you get off.”

“I can’t get off. I can’t even feel my arms! Every time I want to move it just moves the character in-game.”

“No, no, no. The only way for you to get off the game is for you to get off in the game.”

“So what, I just jerk off in a corner somewhere like Dean Ambrose?”

“No, you can’t. If you do that, then I’ll be stuck in the game.”

“Dino, I think that’s a sacrifice that I’m willing to make.”

“That’s cold, Johnny.”

“Look, Dino, you’re a good guy but I don’t know if I’m ready to—“

A scream cut him off. The door to the room burst open, and a woman in bright green clothing stumbled in through the doorway, collapsing to the ground. Her belly bulged, and he guessed that she might have been a few weeks out from giving birth. When Johnny took a second look, it wasn’t a pregnant woman at all. It was a pregnant John Cena. Tears streamed down his face and he looked like he wasn’t even able to stand.

“I’M A MERCENARY!” someone yelled.

Thudding footsteps preluded the terror, as a hulking mass followed Cena through the doorway. Broad shoulders spread across a muscular body. It was Brock Lesnar. He moved slowly, but each step was terrifying. The man’s presence was unreal, and between each step were words. Paul Heyman was following close behind, repeating a mantra.

“Eat. Sleep. Impregnate. Repeat,” Paul chanted. “Eat. Sleep. Impregnate. Repeat.”

Johnny turned to Dino. “Alright bro, fucking kiss me,” he said.

“You got it buddy,” Dino replied.

Johnny had always thought that Dino Winwood’s lips would be soft and savory, but he did not know how right he would be. The first touch of their lips was tentative, timid at the new ground that they were exploring, but soon Johnny found himself reciprocating and even taking the lead. Dino’s hands had already found their way into John Blud’s pants, and indeed his name rang true for soon his erection was pulsating with a healthy amount of blood, bringing him to full staff. Dino’s hot kisses began to trail down Johnny’s chest and with slow, sure movements he removed Johnny’s pants. Precum was leaking from the tip of Johnny’s erection, and as he worked off his underwear, it poked Dino in the face for a moment, causing him to let out a girlish squeal.

Now with his cock free, Johnny laid back as Dino took it into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it and bobbing his head up and down. Dino’s suction was unparalleled, and already Johnny felt himself on the brink of orgasm. Dino could sense the potential orgasm, and stopped, letting Johnny’s cock slip out of his mouth with an audible pop.

“What the fuck are you doing, bro?” Johnny asked.

“Buddy, if we’re gonna fuck then we’ve gotta cum together.”

“That’s not even how it works!”

“Well, shut up.”

Dino tossed his clothing to one side and stood, legs apart, spreading his sphincter for his lover. He eased down and let out a hot sigh as he felt Johnny’s length slide into him and after the initial feeling out phase, Johnny began to lift his hips in earnest, thighs slamming against Dino’s wonderful ass cheeks. The rhythmic sounds of their lovemaking filled the arena, groans loud and sweat flying and soon neither could take it anymore. Simultaneously they let out loud moans, signalling their mutual orgasm.

 

When Johnny opened his eyes he was in his bed again, sweaty. He removed the Oculus Rift and tossed it aside. His phone buzzed. It was from Dino.

“lol that was pretty gay huh,” it read.

“Yeah,” Johnny said aloud. “It kinda was.”


End file.
